


A Photograph of You

by flowersforgraves



Series: BTHB [18]
Category: Stargate Universe
Genre: Artificial Intelligence, Bad Things Happen Bingo, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Holographic Projections, Manipulation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 12:52:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18446954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforgraves/pseuds/flowersforgraves
Summary: Rush's brain knows it's Destiny he's talking to, not Gloria. That doesn't make it easier to convince his heart.





	A Photograph of You

**Author's Note:**

> prompt from anon on tumblr: Mind games : Nicholas rush
> 
> (card [here](https://flowersforgraves.tumblr.com/post/177921515881/); current list of claimed and filled prompts [here](https://flowersforgraves.tumblr.com/post/184147229731/))

Destiny doesn’t _talk_ so much as it simply places its desires into Rush’s brain. He knows it’s not Gloria, because Gloria died years before he had even heard the name Destiny, because Gloria always leant over his right shoulder and not his left, because he’s not a fucking idiot. But Destiny sure as hell knows how to hit him where it hurts. The burning loss intensifies as soon as not-Gloria flickers out of existence, no matter how many times he tells himself to stop playing a fool.

Destiny can steamroll through his mind when it wants to. It never has, but he knows it can. It never has, because he’s never really been able to say no to Gloria, and as long as it keeps manifesting as her (wearing her face, her voice), Rush is powerless to resist.

He pulls the now-tattered picture from his breast pocket. Gloria -- the real Gloria -- smiles out at him, eyes laughing and wisps of escaping hair framing her face. If he closes his eyes, he can almost hear her voice again. Or is it Destiny, stealing even this from him? It gets harder to tell as he sleeps less and works more, catching blurred figures in the corner of his eye more often than not. He’s swinging rapidly between hypervigilant and completely oblivious, and all the while Destiny talks to him in Gloria’s voice, tearing open the Gloria-shaped hole in his heart.

 _Nick,_ Gloria says. 

“Gloria,” Rush says back, except he’s not sure if this is Gloria or not-Gloria, or if he’s awake or dreaming, or even if he opened his mouth to speak.

 _You look tired, Nick,_ she tells him. _It’s alright to rest. You don’t need to push yourself so hard._

Rush sighs. “I have to,” he says. He’s not quite sure what it is he has to do, though, because there is a weight behind his eyes, and he just wants to close them. He can almost feel Gloria’s hands brushing hair away from his face, fingertips over his cheekbones, but --

It’s Destiny, of course, it’s always Destiny. The photo of Gloria is the only thing he has left of her, and no matter how Destiny tries it can’t replicate the spark of life in her. But it _can_ replicate her image, and it has no problem using her image to get him to do what it wants. It has no moral qualms, because it doesn’t have morality as anything but an abstract concept. It only knows what it needs, what it wants, and Rush is what it is using to get it. 

Rush digs ragged, bitten-off fingernails into his palms. The pain is grounding, for a brief, blessed moment, but then Destiny is there taking it away. 

_Why are you doing this, Nick?_ Destiny is pitching Gloria’s voice to the tone she used to use getting him to take care of himself. _You’re hurting yourself._

Rush grips the picture of Gloria even tighter. Destiny can’t take it away from him as long as he’s holding onto her. His memories of Gloria blur with the memories of Destiny, and the heavy pressure in his eyes intensifies, then releases. 

He looks down at the crumpled picture in his hand, a crease marring Gloria’s face. “No,” he says.


End file.
